Reap THIS!
by CC-645
Summary: In this story: Shepard is Shepherd of the VDV, Anderson has a headache, the Council has coffee and the Reapers are ripped a new one. A parody of the many things I found illogical in Mass Effect proper, done up in my classic style of satire, thought and laughs. Enjoy!
1. Part I

**Reap This!**

…**or: Actually, **_**YOU**_** are irrelevant!**

* * *

**Part I**

The day, in Alliance Commander "Shepherd's" opinion, was absolutely crummy.

Eighteen hours ago, he was the commanding officer of the VDV detachment stationed on the _Marshal Zhukov,_ the Russian-designed Dreadnought so coveted by the Alliance Navy Command. The ship was a marvel, carrying enough armament to obliterate three Turian counterparts, and, at a pinch, take on the _Destiny Ascension_; all while having a reasonably comfortable environment and being relatively small in size.

The ship's officers were equally sought after for their professional demeanour and dedication to duty, as well as loyalty and integrity. That, in a nutshell, was why he found himself woken up at o-dark-hundred Moscow time and reassigned to the _Normandy._

It would have been obvious to a blind hamster that something was up. Admiral Hackett rarely asked such great favours from his Russian counterpart, and even rarer did Turian spectres travel on prototype Alliance stealth frigates.

It was no surprise that this was where most of Viktor Ivanovich Romanov's, or simply Shepherd's – the call sign he had earned during the Skillian Blitz and the subsequent counteroffensive for his efforts at coordination – troubles began.

"What the hell do you mean the planet is a warzone?" Viktor roared over the blaring of alarms in the CIC.

"Just that, Commander!" Joker bellowed back, trying to avoid ground-based flak. "I count four regiments of mechanicals, one unidentified combatant species, roughly company strength, various aerial assets and one big, ugly thing over two kilometres long."

"Any ID on it?" Viktor asked, curious despite himself, "And how on Earth did the hostiles gain control of our air defence assets so fast?"

"Not flashing any transponders I recognize, but it has 'REAPER ONE' stencilled on the flank." Presley reported in a bit of a hurry, trying to avoid a snarky crack from Joker on the subject of them not being on Earth. "Oh, and, Commander; Captain Anderson is pulling his hair out trying to get in touch with you."

"Put him through," Shepherd acknowledged, moving over to a tactical console nearby.

"Ah sir?" Presley asked, "Aren't you going to go to his cabin? I mean, he has some uber-secret, top priority briefing for you, most likely."

"And?" Viktor responded, sarcasm dripping from his voice like honey off a spoon. "I have an uber-secret, top priority battle to win here, or at least not die in. Now, are you going to link that feed?"

Presley gulped, at about half a meter shorter than the commander – who, incidentally, was a freaking biotic with a fetish for grenade launchers and shotguns – he really didn't want to argue that point. _Any point,_ actually.

"Shepherd! We have a situation!" Anderson called, pacing about his cabin. Frankly, Viktor thought, the captain only wanted to see him in person for the display to be more effective.

"Well, I have a situation too, wanna see whose is better?" he muttered absently, as he opened up another channel and called, "Intelligence, get me profiles on ground hostiles. Tactical – do your thing. Electronic warfare, forget that Dreadnaught, focus on shutting down the AAA."

Ayes came in acknowledgement, but Viktor's attention had shifted back to this conversation with Anderson. "Actually, I believe my situation has led to your situation." The captain said wryly, "Archaeologists have discovered an intact Prothean beacon on planet, and those are a rare commodity these days. Nihlus wants you to suit up and meet him in the hangar bay; you're going down for extraction of the beacon."

In his long and storied career, Viktor had heard some stupid orders, but this bought the cake. Actually, it bought the entire cake factory. "What's he on?" he demanded incredulously, "Intelligence just confirmed that our robot friends are Geth – yes, those Geth, the ones from beyond the veil – and Tactical has just informed me that they also have some sort of cyborg army down there. That's not even mentioning the still-active triple-A or the power output on that Dreadnaught."

Anderson looked over the reports forwarded to him, and even through the poor, 800x600 resolution of the monitor, his grim expression could still be seen. "I understand Commander," he tried to placate, "but politically there's diddly-squat I can do, he's a Council Spectre, and we sort-of need that beacon. I am, however, open to brilliant plans."

Viktor chuckled; Anderson was still a good officer, good enough to recognize when a situation could be handled by another when he himself was constrained by political entanglements. "One brilliant plan coming right up," he said, "would you like fries with it?"

Anderson did not so much as respond before cutting the feed.

"Right…" Viktor clapped his hands matter-of-factly, "Tactical, designate cyborg army as 'Husks' and send a bioprint – if you can get one – to Alliance command. Weapons – prime for anti-ground. EW, how are my towers doing?"

"Not all that well, Commander," Ensign Fields of the Electronic Warfare Unit reported, "Geth runtimes currently outnumber our unit. If this was a dedicated EW frigate, we might have had a chance to rest control, but as it is, they are just too many to deal with."

"Understood," Viktor hummed. If he was to secure the beacon and do something for the colony, those towers would need to be taken offline, or, better yet, retargeted._ Retargeted!_ Most Alliance technology was controlled remotely, which did help minimize logistical hassle, but also meant enemies with cloud computing powers – like the Geth – had an easier time of hacking into them. This reliance on wireless communication did not mean that there were not any backups. On the contrary, all defence installations would, upon cessation of the control signal, revert to defaults and those defaults were to shoot anything that didn't have an Alliance paintjob.

"New plan," Viktor grinned, "Get control of the central telecom hub on planet. Once you're done, pipe something loud on all frequencies, we're jamming this system."

And so it was that ten minutes later and to the tune of the Russian National Anthem blaring through every speaker and on every frequency imaginable, the Eden Prime Anti-Air Artillery recalibrated targeting parameters and began slugging away at Geth dropships and _Reaper One_. Nazara, needless to say, was rather pissed and departed in an aggrieved huff. Saren Arterius, frantic to not be left behind, yelled, "Screw the beacon!" and bolted aboard the nearest shuttle.

* * *

**Okay, so, my will finally crumbled and I could not resist posting this story.**

**I had written half of it in February 2013, but considering my extremely cynical outlook on the Mass Effect series, I was not certain that posting it was such a great idea. But, as anyone who has read my Star Wars stories knows, I love parody, and the Mass Effect universe is SOOOOOO ripe with the absence of logic that it has infinite possibilities for satire.**

**Even so, I do uphold a certain standard, even when parodying the hell out of something, so, though you can expect a U-turn from canon, you can also rest assured that:**

** A: There will be no moronic self-inserts, and OCs will be limited to minor speaking roles for story purposes,  
B: There will be no out-of-universe comments on the part of the characters. When a character comments on the narration, starts acting like they are in a game, or other crap of that sort, the story stops being a parody and becomes demented trash.  
C: All alterations to personalities of entities will be made not "for the hell of it" but in line with the story.  
**

**Anyway, I do hope you enjoy.**

**Cheers!**

Clean word count: 1,056 | Published: 3/1/15, 01:21 GMT


	2. Part II

**Reap This!**

…**or: Actually, **_**YOU**_** are irrelevant!**

* * *

**Part II**

The world swam into focus. It had the indecency to do so very slowly. The sterile lights blaring down upon him gave away that he was in a medbay, and the presence of Doctor Chakwas indicated that said medbay was aboard the _Normandy_. "What hit me?" he asked, reverting to humour when grouchiness failed.

"A Prothean Beacon, by all accounts." The doctor chortled, "Nihlus says it 'had an adverse reaction' to your presence and exploded. You've been unconscious for the past three days with abnormal brain activity. Aside from that, and minor shrapnel wounds, you're good to go on whatever hare-brained scheme Anderson has cooked up for you while you were out."

Viktor snorted, sitting up he mumbled, "Yeah, that's just great. Get blown up and back to duty right away. Any clue what the 'unusual brain activity' was, Doc?"

Chakwas shrugged, "No way to tell for certain if you don't remember. Possibilities range from normal dreams, to hallucinations, to a possible information imprint from the Protheans. After all, we do know they were a brainy bunch."

Viktor just groaned. "Knowing Murphy, galactic shit is about to hit the galactic fan in thirty-two minutes…"

* * *

Murphy was indeed Murphy, so Galactic Shit hit the Galactic Fan seventeen minutes ahead of schedule. Or, to be precise, when Shepherd was about to board a sky car.

"Commander!" Anderson called to him across the Alliance parking lot, beckoning in a hurry toward a minibus, "You're just in time."

"Nothing ever good happens after they say that," Viktor grumbled, clambering aboard. Between himself, Ashley, Kaiden, Nihlus, a Krogan, a Salarian, another Turian, a Quarian and an Asari – all unidentified – the fit was tight, and the ride was uncomfortable, especially as the portside door did not lock and had to be propped shut by a sniper rifle, and the forward grav coil was held affixed to the undercarriage courtesy of three biotics.

"So," Anderson began cheerily, from the relative safety of the driver's seat, "Viktor, meet Battlemaster Wrex, Spectre Jondum Bau, Detective Garrus Vakarian, Tali'Zorah – private citizen - and Spectre Tela Vasir—"

A rambunctious teenager on a hovercycle forced Anderson to break off and yell imprecations at him, swerving to avoid the little twerp and the oncoming traffic both, so Tela took over, "Welcome to the Anti-Reaper club, Commander…"

* * *

"_Eden Prime was a major Victory, Benezia, it has brought us one step closer to the Conduit and the Return of the Reapers._" the voice rolled through the Council chambers, echoing with menace from the inset speakers.

"_It has, but I would not go as far as to call it a 'victory'. You and your forces got routed. You should be thankful, Saren, that you got the Beacon vision at all. When it comes to galactic affairs, one cannot be too careful."_

"_That is why I am sending you to Noveria. You will take charge of our project there. The Mu Relay must be found."_

The recording clicked off, and all present sat – or stood – in silence, pondering or waiting. Then, predictably, Councillor Tevos spoke, "This 'evidence'…" she spat the word out as if it was something dirty – and who knew, in her language, it might as well have been – "…this evidence is very shaky. A voice recording can be doctored – just as a video could be – and frankly, this just seems like a matter of political intrigue."

Udina was all riled up, ready to spit fire and brimstone, but Anderson beat him to the punch. "So, does that mean that the evidence the Turians provided to rationalize the First Contact War could have been doctored?" he said, barely restraining a smirk.

"Now see here!" Sparatus fumed, "We are a Citadel race, we do not indulge in petty intrigue."

It is not known how the company held a straight face at that remark. Well, Tali did not exactly need to, but for the others it must have been a momentous effort of will. Once collected though, Anderson pounced on the opening so graciously presented, and – very evilly – grinned, "But, Councillors, we are now a Citadel race as wel. Why would we indulge in petty political machinations?

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Viktor "Shepherd" Ivanovich was named a Citadel Spectre and placed in command of SCARE: **S**erious **C**ouncil **A**ction against **R**eapers and **E**vil.

In the CIC aboard the _Normandy_ he watched as the relay spooled up, preparing to hurl his ship to Therum. He and Vasir where to go there in search of Liara T'soni, daughter to Benezia and Prothean archaeologist extraordinaire, possibly possessed of intelligence as to her mother's plans. Per Anderson, the mission was a "Smash and grab, only without the smash and with minimal grab."

Garrus, Nihlus and Jondum, aboard the cruiser _Tenacity_ were on their way to browbeat the corporate bigwigs on Noveria, where STG assets had confirmed the presence of Benezia, and Anderson, Wrex and Tali – who had been profusely thankful to the captain for rescuing her from a bad deal on the Citadel, and having a golden heart had offered to help as technical support – where answering a Prothean-related distress call on Feros. Naval Intelligence had it that there might be a beacon kicking about in those dusty ruins, and given the Eden Prime precedent, it was likely to be a target for Saren and his Geth.

Reality shifted as the _Normandy_ was flung across the galaxy and into Artemis Tau, and Sovereign, in his dark birth on Vermire, suddenly had a bad feeling about it all. After all, all the previous cycles the reapers had faced were blithering idiots. This couldn't be any different, right? Those pesky little Hum-whatsies could not possibly have caught on? …right?

* * *

**That's Part II (of many).  
One of my major problems with Mass Effect, KOTOR, SWTOR, and all other games that have you visit X amount of planets/places with no given order, is that usually you are on an urgent galaxy-saving mission. But if you're on a galaxy-saving mission, and all X planets are equally vital to survival, why is only one person/ship sent? It would be much more efficeint to send three ships, like I just did, one to Noveria to handle Benezia (and the Rachni, but we won't tell them that), one to Therum (to collect the expert) and one to Feros to answer that distress call, that, frankly should not have been answered by Shepard anyway. He is on a Galaxy-scale mission. Why is he doing petty chores and doing the dishes? I understand it from a game mechanic, but from logic? No.  
**

**Likewise, Anderson did not wait for Shepherd to regain consciousness before debarking on the Citadel, rescuing Tali and doing all that jazz. I mean, they are on a timecrunch, right?**

**As always, I hope you guys enjoyed, thank you to _Yolo Right_ and _Sniper At Work_ for alerting, and to ****_DrzMarcelo, Yolo Right, Zimbolical, _and_ gamerboypark_ for favving. Till next time!  
**

Clean word count: 956 | Published: 0528 GMT


	3. Part III

**Reap This!**

* * *

…**or: **_**YOU**_** are irrelevant!**

* * *

**Part III**

* * *

An explosion briefly flared outside the windows, polarizing the viewports and sending minor debris pinging against the _Normandy_'s shields. It was a pity the shields lacked sentience, or they would have warbled an "Oh my! That tickles!" at the laughable remains of the Geth destroyer so courteously obliterated by a flight of MiG-337s.

The aerospace superiority fighters wiggled their wings and broke hard to port, turning to strafe a Geth ground column and giving Joker the opportunity to let out a mock affronted "Well that's fine! Leave me to deal with the big ugly cruiser!" Predictably, neither the bridge crew, nor fighters, nor Nova Yekaterinburg Control acknowledged, and went along with their tasks.

"_Target acquired; safeties off. Ready whenever, boss."_

'Light it up, Petrovich!" Shepherd called to the gunnery station, a very evil, very satisfied grin crossing his face as the _Normandy's_ deck shuddered, and a spread of very wicked, very fast and very explosive torpedoes cleared their ventral racks.

The contrails had barely appeared before there was an unearthly boom, a flash of light more brilliant than the last, and Joker was clawing hard for distance as the ezo containment failed aboard the Geth Cruiser _01101111 01101111 01110000 01110011_ and the skies of Therum were once again illuminated by the explosion of yet another ship.

"SCAARE Actual, this is Nova Yekaterinburg Defence Control," the radio crackled, "Enemy aerospace capacity has been atomized. MiGs are withdrawing."

"Understood, Defence Control; proceeding with extraction." Viktor keyed off the circuit and strode briskly aft, mumbling a hypothesis as to the presence of Hanar or Vorcha – and probably both – ancestors in the bloodlines of the _Normandy's_ designers and that one genius in particular who put a bloody elevator on what amounted to a heavily-armed space double-decker.

It was as useless as a screen door on a submarine.

* * *

Normally, Spetsnaz standard operating procedure was to apply copious quantities of high explosive to a door and fill the room beyond with a lot of led – or tungsten, as the case was – while Asari commandos preferred to not breach at all if they could help it, and preferably have the problem solve itself.

Therum was not going to solve itself though, so Shepherd, his twenty Spetsnaz vanguards, Tela Vasir and her ten commandos applied copious biotics to the nearest vertical surface they could find.

The poor Prothean ruins said "we give up" and collapsed.

Normally, the above is a bad idea if you want to extract the person trapped in said ruins in one piece, and not a blue stain, but the one thing Protheans did well was build energy shields. And so, when the dust settled, Doctor Liara T'Soni was rolling towards the group in an energy-hamster ball, safe and unharmed.

The group, not being shot at by Geth, roared at by Krogan, or preoccupied by exploding volcanos slapped their knees and laughed.

Surprisingly, Liara joined in.

* * *

"You mean to tell me," said Councillor Tevos with a constipated expression, "that you just engaged in wanton property damage courtesy of thirty-two simultaneous biotic warps to extract your target?"

"Yep." Viktor and Tela chorused cheerily. They paused, thought a moment, and high-fived each other, sending Tevos into groans and prompting her to rub her temples as if to stave off a migraine.

"Please tell me you at least got Doctor T'Soni out alive…" Sparatus growled. It was a little-known fact that Turians were allergic to positions of power, and if they stayed in them too long, they developed the 'jackassary syndrome'. In the Turian Councillor's case, it had already set in and gone past the treatable stage.

"Yes, they did, actually." said Liara herself, clad in Spetsnaz assault armour and cradling an AK-1147 protectively, "Just in case it was not obvious by my presence here."

Had his physiology allowed it, Sparatus would have followed Tevos' example and started massaging his temples too. As it was, he just groaned and muttered, "Nihlus, your report? I don't think I want to hear more from Shepherd."

"_We linked up with the Alliance 45__th__ Battle Group just off the Pax relay before jumping in system. Port Hanshan control told us that they had orbital defence batteries tracking us, so the 45__th__ targeted the orbital defence batteries. I won't go into specifics, but Matriarch Benezia is in Alliance custody, there is a Rachni queen running loose somewhere in the Galaxy, and Noveria is once-again open to colonization. Just warn the future colonists about the debris still falling from orbit and the excessive radiation, would you?"_

"I believe I seriously misjudged that one…" Sparatus said slowly, "Though I guess I should be grateful that at least you didn't destroy the planet outright."

By this time Tevos had recovered enough to re-join the conversation. "What do you mean, Sparatus? The humans can destroy planets now?" She turned to Valern, "Why has the STG told us nothing of this?"

Valern, who was quite happily playing Tetris on his omni-tool, took a minute to respond, "Told Council. Council didn't listen. Dismissed _Death Star_ as 'just a moon' and 'piece of fiction.' Not STG fault if Thesia or Palaven go the way of Alderaan."

While his colleagues ran out of the Council Chamber screaming, Valern turned to the last SCAARE team on his hololith. "Captain Anderson, what mischief has befallen Feros?"

"Me? Mischief?" Anderson wondered. His surprise might have been believable had in the background Tali'Zorah not been shaking in mirth and Wrex not been patting his shotgun and rumbling in laughter. "Well, there were veran – operative word being 'were', because we gave Wrex a flamethrower, then there were two Geth dropships and a Binary Helix executive building which we treated to anti-capital ship weaponry – BH are still refusing to speak with us over that – and then there was this giant potato that had control of the colonists and lots of green Asari."

Valern tapped his chin in a human affectation, "Hm, interesting. Presume 'giant potato' eliminated with extreme prejudice and Asari sent to labs for study?"

Anderson nodded. "Right on both counts, Councillor."

Valern nodded again, "Good, good. Have favour to ask of you, but first, what have you discovered about Saren?"

Viktor chose to field this question. "We are still sharing notes on matter, but so far we have gathered that the Protheans were wiped out by a race of Space Asshats called Reapers who have this weird thing going where every fifty-or-so thousand years they wipe out all galactic civilization, trusting that the next civilization to come across is going to do the stupid thing and use the mass relays and ezo tech instead of inventing their own. The Conduit, as its name suggests, is a backdoor to somewhere, we are not yet sure though as to where that somewhere is. We do know that the conduit is beyond the Mu Relay – just to clarify, we do know where that is – so we are assembling the 9th Fleet to go in with us and see what we can find. That will take about two days, so we're open to whatever favour you need."

"Wonderful news," Valern nodded again, a habit it seemed, "Will send STG ships to assist, for now, need help on planet Virmire. Reconnaissance team gone silent, then sent distress signal asking for SCAARE. Recommend overwhelming force, likely trap. Team deployed before SCAARE inception, has no knowledge."

Viktor thought for a minute, then his face lit up as if New Years' had come early, "Everyone, meet me at Arcturas in six hours; Joker, jump when ready; somebody, get me Admiral Voronina on the comms." Turning to Valern, Viktor saluted and said, "Don't worry Councillor, I've got Virmire under control. SCAARE Actual out."

* * *

**And another chapter of spoofs is away!**

**So, after engaging in aggressive negotiations with Mass effect and my PC, I got it to work...and shall we say, I was incredibly underwhelmed. I mean, the pew-pew is not that bad, especially after I got a hold of the developer console, but story wise? I don't think I would be able to spoof all the things that need spoofing, (like how stupid ezo tech actually is, or how totally ridiculous Prothean beacons are, and don't even get me started on indoctrination...) Anyway, moving right along...**

_01101111 01101111 01110000 01110011_ **(the Geth cruiser shot down over Therum) literally translates to "Oops". I just could not resist putting that in. I had originally thought of using hex, but thought it would be total overkill and detract from the humour.**_  
_

**Nova Yekaterinburg was the planned capital of Therum, but never made it into the games. I'm glad it didn't, apart from the fact that "Nova" is not remotely Russian, and the proper word would be "Новый" (Novyy), Therum was a total dump in the game, and frankly, BioWare's bias against Russians kinda disgusts me.**

**So, being the person I am, I got out my AU-matron 2000 and gave them a bunch of space MiGs. **

**Next up: deployment. This is a thing that has never ceased to perplex me in Mass Effect. We have "super-powerful" (not!) warships...why the hell do they need us to land in a tiny little APC and haul our armor-clad asses for over 100 kilometers to some far-away place where we can get shot at by Geth Colossi and Armatures? Oh, thats right, for XP! Well sorry, not how it works IRL. First you bomb everything standing, shoot everything standing after that, and then deploy right on top of the place where you need to deploy. Oh, yeah, the Normandy can't land. But apparently no-one has heard of Parachutes, jump-jets or even reppelling down ropes. Or Helicopters.**

**Biotics. Why has no-one thought to use them on solid things? Like, for construction, or deconstruction? Personally, and I am a little dissappoited I was unable to fit it into this chapter, but this story is meant to be "short and sweet", I had the team send in a drone (because everyone and their grandmother has them in ME, apparently) in to talk to Liara, discover the Prothean security measure and the angry Krogan inside and simply "cut" a way in along the path of least resistance, like from the side?**

**Next grouch - deployment unit size. I understand that for gaming reasons, we only have two people with us, (and that's one more than SWTOR) but that is not a squad. **

**Republic COmmando took a very interesting way out of it, they gave you a "squad" of 4 people (really a fireteam) and then explained that you are super-duper clones who can do a lot of crazy things, so only a few of you were created, and only a few of you are needed for any mission, so the entire structure is downized. (An RC company is 20 people) but Mass Effect and SWTOR do not have that luxury.**

**So, I gave Nihlus and Anderson a battle group (subdivison of a fleet, sort-of like a platoon) each to deal with their things.**

**Conduit - this thing, in Mass Effect 1, pisses me off the most. What on Earth is vague about the fragging conduit? What is a conduit? A channel along which something flows, either small-scale like power conduits, or a transport system. I doubt the Protheans would go to all the trouble to hide conduits, switchboards and capacitors, no?**

**Sparatus. Really, all of the Council are detestible, but honestly, Sparatus wins hands down as to the person who is the biggest threat to the Galaxy. Valern (canon) is just a little punk who has grown comfortable with being the "smartest kid in town" and believes himself (and his species) to know all. I've had classmates like that. Needless to say when asked what pi was beyond 3.14, that confidence was shattered. Tevos reminds me of a typical left-wing politician. Problem? What problem? Economy? Yeah, screw that, lets discus global (Erm, Galactic) warming and welfare for orphaned Geth platforms.**

**You really don't expect much of them. But Sparatus - his entire species is based on war, yet as I have jibed at with the "jackassary syndrome" remark, all he cares about is his own coushy coushion. He has the resources, and the knowledge, to do something, but in canon he does nothing, honestly, quite like the US of this day, sticking their nose where it does not belong (Relay 314/All the wars past WWII) and doing jack shit when it is needed (reapers).**

**Cycle. The Thorian has been around for yonks. Firstly, why have the reapers not killed him? And secondly, if he has been around for yonks, and Sha'ila melded with him (gross) why does Sha'ila not know all that has transpired in the galaxy over the past few hundred millennia? Like that there were people besides the Protheans and that the reapers are evil?**

**Nevermind, game logic.**

**And, finally, while the Conduit might ahve been my biggest problem with Mass Effect 1, the Cycle is my overarching problem with the mass Effect series proepr.**

**You mean to tell me that in over a few billion years and a few million civilizations, not a single one of these civilizations has said "Hm, Mass Relays. They are here, we don't know who built them, we don't know how they work, lets not use them and instead be creative?"**

**If I don't know how something works, I don't use it. If I don't know what a file attachment in an email does, I don't download it. simple as that. **

**All it would have taken was one Civilization inventing Plasma Tech, or alternative FTL, or better laser tech, and boom! There goes the reaper's plot, and BioWare's plot. **

**As I have mentioned in the opening notes for _Off Course_ I hate it when the "good guys" are dumbed down to make the "bad guys" look "smarter" because the person creating the universe lacks all imagination.**

**Anyway, I think I have thoroughly deconstructed Mass Effect and ensured that I shall never be offered a job at BioWare, so before you all get bored, I'm gonna wish you a good day and sign off!**

Clean word count: 1289 | Published: 22/02/15, 0311 GMT.


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